A light that never goes out
by Amelie Enjolras
Summary: He didn't want to die without loving someone. She didn't want to die for love.
1. Chapter 1

**1830 **

Éponine looked at her bruised face through her cracked piece of mirror. Her sixteen years of age were lost under premature wrinkles, dark circles under her eyes, expression marks and grime. Her grace was being consumed by hunger; her face was mainly formed by a sharp jaw and really high, accentuated cheekbones and her body was so thin that she would move her fingers through her ribcage. Her brown, long mane, which was her personal pride a long time ago, was now dirty and greasy and hanged from her head like a dead batch of snakes or a bunch of burned hay.

Cursing internally, she threw herself on the ground as he heard her drunken father coming into the living room. After leaving the only room in the apartment, which was mainly a corner of the room they had separated with pieces of Éponine's oldest tatters and was used by her parents to get drunk and have their awkward and loud love 'demonstrations', the old man kicked her on he hip just for fun and then left the apartment, probably to find his gang.

She stood up afterwards, walking hardly with the bruises that her father's gang had caused her just because she hadn't brought enough sous for them to drink the whole night.

"Éponine," her mother called her as she was about to open the door.

"What do you want?" she asked Mme Thénardier in a resentful tone of voice.

"Where's the whore?" Mme Thénardier asked, knowing that made Éponine mad.

"Azelma is not a whore," she answered resentfully.

"She sleeps with men for money. How do you call that?" Mme Thénardier asked ironically.

"You forced her! Sold her to a man in the docks! Don't dare to call her that!" Éponine exclaimed in rage, "Besides, you cannot call any other woman in the whole France a whore when you receive every man in your bed when your husband's not looking. Claquesous, Babet, Brujon, Gueulemer, you name them! And...they don't even pay you!"

"_Putain_! Sewer rat! Watch out with your tone with me if you don't want to suffer your sister's fate," she threatened her.

Éponine was gone by then. It was raining and he was barefoot but she didn't care, she just wanted to leave that place. She was tired, hated her situation with her soul. She hated how ignorance was tattooed to her forehead like a sin, hated the way everything pure and beautiful had left her, as though she had been consumed by darkness, hated the way her parents' wretchedness had corrupted her soul and marked her life forever, hated poverty, hated how she was looked in the streets as something lower than dirt, how she was unworthy of everything, including love. In that moment she hated Marius, both her only friend and unrequited love, who was the only man that had showed her that people can be good while, at the same time, completely ignoring her. She hated the way her brother had the guts to escape and was probably living as happily as an urchin can live while she was stuck with a hustler and a whore for parents. She hated how her sister, beautiful young Azelma, was now a _lovely lady, _a job she didn't have to do up until now because she was a professional at pickpocketing and other arts (nothing she was very proud of), especially from begging in the better parts of the city, where she got a lot of sous just to leave and stop making the views ugly.

She was tired and refused to continue. As she walked through Rue Plummet, she was seriously thinking about suicide as a viable option, when something occurred to her. She was a young, literate girl that learned things fast. From her time at her family's inn at Montfermeil, she had learned how to cook several things. She could search for work somewhere. That's how it occurred to her that she could simply knock in one door and ask for work, not even thinking that it was dawn and that, with the rain, her personal demeanor wasn't precisely appealing.

Hopeful, she opened the fence of a cottage surrounded by a beautiful garden. As she walked, she could feel her heart pounding harder at the perspective of a new life, not even thinking about the reaction of the house owner. With these feelings, she knocked. Nobody answered, making her knock again. By the third knock, she started to mentally scold herself when the door was opened, revealing a beautiful image that made Éponine miserable.

Blonde hair made in a long braid, blue, innocent eyes narrowed by sleep, kind smile, fair skin, young, innocent. Clad in a nightgown that was probably worth more than anything Éponine had worn in a very long time, she was a recognizable figure that haunted her every dream. Cosette, on the other side, didn't recognize her foster sister and childhood tormentor, thus she called her father immediately.

Jean Valjean, awoken suddenly by her daughter's call, ran to the door in anguish, thinking that it was probably Javert and that his own daughter had opened the door for him. Standing behind Cosette, he did recognize the girl in front of him, soaked to the bone, shivering and crying. For a brief second, as the girl looked away, he imagined her with her head shaved and her teeth missing, disgraced and beaten by life, dying in the middle of a battle against fever and sickness, a battle against her demons, a battle against the wrong decisions. He imagined her trembling, asking for help with her last breath, telling him to take care of her child and then she directed a hurt glance at him with her big dove eyes and he recognized that look of extreme suffering and tireless struggle he hadn't seen since Fantine passed away. He had to help her.

"Cosette, wake up Toussaint and go to your room," he commanded immediately, not letting her ask any question.

"Yes sir," the girl answered in a childish voice as she left.

Valjean made a signal for Éponine to come inside and he closed the door behind her. She was suddenly aware of her muddy feet and skirt as she didn't want to mess up anything in that precious cottage. She walked uncertainly behind Valjean, who took her to the kitchen, where an old woman waited for them.

"Toussaint, please give her something to eat, as much as she wants. Also, prepare a bath for her, put her a dress from Cosette's wardrobe, they're probably the same size. Then, send her to my library," he commanded before living.

"Immediately Monsieur," she answered respectfully.

"And Toussant?" he suddenly remembered before leaving.

"Yes?"

"Sorry for waking you up at this hour," he said, making Éponine blush and look away.

"Don't worry sir," she answered and started preparing something for Éponine.

Éponine was given a delicious soup with some warm bread and a small cup of wine, which she ate and drank without lifting her head from the plate or even thanking the woman in front of her, who looked at her with a sad, uneasy expression in her face. When she finished, the woman helped her to reach the place in which Cosette took her baths, an spacious room with a tub in the middle, previously prepared with warm water for her. After her body accustomed to the warmth and the filth started to drip from her body, even she was disgusted by the amount of dirt she had accumulated. Toussaint helped her wash her hair, complimenting her on how beautiful it was. The woman also helped her to scrub her back with a sponge in a very gentle manner. Éponine closed her eyes and, leaving the shame aside, felt the pleasure of someone taking care of her.

It took the at least an hour and a half to get Éponine ready. After the bath, Toussaint prepared for her a beautiful dress that brought Éponine to tears. It was cream colored with a pattern of small flowers and a little embroidery in the top, around the shoulders and breast, it had a matching purple belt that accentuated Éponine's small waist. Before putting on some purple shoes, Toussaint had to rub her feet, apply a certain ointment and put a bandage on; Éponine had gone barefoot for a very long time, injuring her feet while never taking care of them. Although it was weird at first, she felt safe while having shoes on.

When she was taken to Jean Valjean's library, she was a totally different person. Her hair had been left hanging naturally, except for a few strands that had been tied with a little bow. Valjean smiled at her, offering a seat in front of him and commanding Toussaint to close the door.

"You look quite beautiful," he said.

"Merci beaucoup," she answered while looking at her feet, "also, thanks for your hospitality...but I know nothing's for free. I'm sure I can work for you. I'll cook, I'll move heavy objects, I'll clean...whatever you need."

Valjean took her hand. "I did recognize you...you were in that inn in which my daughter worked as a slave."

Éponine looked away in shame. _This is it, the moment in which Cosette'll get her revenge...and I'll be thrown to the streets like a stray dog, _she thought as tears pooled in her eyes.

"Naturally, you understand I cannot keep you in this house...not only because, you know, Cosette, but also because the way I live with her...we cannot have many people with us," he tried to explain. Éponine nodded and was about to stand up.

"But I know a woman that lives nearby...She'll gladly accept you, I'm sure. She needs a nanny for her little granddaughter. I'm sorry I can't offer you anything better," he said but Éponine's face lit up anyways.

"Being a nanny is better than everything I've done so far," she admitted hopefully, "are you sure...she'll accept me?"

"I'll speak very high of you. In fact, we can go in a few hours, it's already the morning," he said with a smile.

"Sir, you're an angel...but I'm just a sewer rat and have no job experience," she argued.

"If I'm not wrong, you had a little sister, right? That's job experience," he said. Éponine lowered her eyes.

"Such a great job I did with her," she mumbled ironically, "She's now in the docks, you know?"

Valjean closed his eyes, thinking about Fantine. "You're not and that's something you should be proud of."

...

A few hours later, Éponine said goodbye to Jean Valjean, who left her in the house of Madame Rochelle, an old, rich woman whose two years old granddaughter had been left in her house. The woman was kind and caring and saw something in Éponine, a glint of innocence and profound grief that made her want to help her.

By noon, Éponine was playing with the little girl, a redhead named Annette, vivacious and pretty, who clapped and laughed at everything. Mme Rochelle looked at her from afar, seeing in her a resemblance to her young self before she married Monsieur Rochelle, when she was a countrywoman, daughter of illiterate peasants. She decided Éponine was staying, she would turn her into a lady.

* * *

**This might be a boring chapter...I swear it's going to be better :) Enjolras and Éponine are both going to be very OOC because I found it funny that Enjolras is always the marble statue and Éponine is the girl in love...you'll see soon ;) **

**Traductions: **

**Putain: Slut/Whore...you get it..**

**Merci Beaucoup: Thank you very much. **

**Sorry for the harsh language, especially in the beginning...**


	2. Chapter 2

**1832**

After a lecture on university, Enjolras met Marius at the Luxembourg Park to discuss certain issues about their rallies. They had received a lot of suggestions on the language they should use when addressing the lower classes, which needed to be kept simple and concise and Marius had already reformed one of his speeches for Enjolras to see it. They sat on a bench, watching children passing by and couples holding hands when, all of a sudden, Marius sighed heavily.

"What's the matter?" Enjolras asked, lowering the paper he was intently reading.

"I swear I'm in love," Marius answered painfully, receiving a confused stare from Enjolras.

"Smile! Isn't that a good thing?" Enjolras asked playfully.

"No when I don't even know her name! One minute she was there, setting my soul on fire and the next minute she was gone, like the wind," Marius explained while sighing once again. Enjolras put his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Where did you see her?" he asked.

"She was in the market with a man I supposed is her father, giving a few coins to the beggars and buying candy for the children. I need to find her!" Marius exclaimed, making Enjolras frown.

Although his face and, sometimes, his attitude showed the contrary, Enjolras had a really warm heart. Among Les Amis de l'ABC, who was the revolutionary group he lead, he was called 'Marble Statue' because of his demeanor. He looked pretty much like a french version of Adonis, the Greek god of beauty. His friends even made everyone in the slums call him Apollo, which made him laugh once he realized that people started recognizing him as such, although nobody knew what it meant.

His blond curls crowned a marble like face, with warm, precious blue eyes, like two sapphires, reflecting passion and determination, a delicate nose and a set of beautiful red lips that always gave the impression of being hand painted. It was as though he had been sculpted by Michelangelo. But that "perfect beauty" had it's defaults too: it made him seem unreachable, hermetic, heartless, cold, the list was infinite. That was far from the real him, a simple, warm and caring human being that was also capable of having strong feelings and showing a great deal of emotion.

Being a loyal friend and caring for Marius' emotional health (because he was needed in his five senses for the revolution to come), he decided to help.

"I swear I'm going to help you find her once her finish with this," he said while pointing at the speech he had been reading.

Marius smiled gratefully, almost wanting to hug his friend, who hushed him to continue reading but was soon interrupted by somebody, a little girl who came up to them running and laughing with flowers in her hands. She stood up in front of them, staring curiously. The girl had also a flower crown on top of her auburn ringlets, which danced against the wind and her green, sparkly eyes tried to register everything around her.

"Do you like flowers?" she asked them randomly, making both of them smile at the estrange situation.

"Sure," Marius answered, "What's your name sweetie?"

"Annette," she answered while offering them a handful of red roses. Enjolras took them, staring at them and then at the little girl.

"Nice to meet you Annette," he said, "I am Enjolras and he is Marius".

"Ma-ri-us and En-jor-las," she tried to say.

"Enjolras," Marius corrected.

"En-jol-ras?" she asked, receiving a smile.

"Annette?" a soft but desperate woman's voice said from behind. The three of them looked as a brown haired girl searched urgently throughout the garden and the finally spotted her, standing in front of both men. Her expression cooled down but still both Enjolras and Marius appreciated a flagrant uneasiness in her eyes. She walked towards them and her features turned more precise, her form took a much more beautiful identity that left Enjolras breathless for a minute.

"Neety," she said, her voice adopting a scolding tone but never leaving it's softness behind, "one doesn't run away like a madman!"

"I'm sorry Ép," she said while lowering her eyes and playing with her foot.

"You scared me! I couldn't see you nearby!" she exclaimed while picking her up. Instinctively, the girl burrowed her head in the woman's neck.

She then realized both men were looking at her curiously and she, without even trying to see who they were, looked at the girl in her arms questioningly.

"Neety, have you been bothering these messieurs?" she asked.

"No, it's alright, she came to give us some flowers," Enjolras explained with a smile on his face.

"The flowers we collected Éppy," Annette said as she half jumped from the woman's arms.

"He is Marius and he is Enjorlas," she said, once again mispronouncing his name.

Something then rang inside Éponine. She looked directly at Marius, the same Marius she had been in love with, that Marius from her past that was too oblivious to see her suffering. She had no feelings for him now. After two months of her being Mme Rochelle's employee, she realized that the only thing Marius did was boss her around all day. She always thought that he asked her for favors because he trusted her and wanted her to be near him, but she then realized he only sent her to run the errands he didn't want to do himself, especially the kind of errands she was now being paid for doing. She spent a few weeks hating him, concentrating all of her good feelings towards Annette, feeling betrayed, dying inside. Then, after being personally educated by her boss, she realized that she now had a lot to live for and that love was not on that list. She also realized that she had no real feelings for Marius and that she wouldn't have any real feelings for any other man.

"My name's Alexandre Enjolras," nice to meet you, the blonde man said.

"I am Marius Pontmercy."

"My name's Éponine," she said cautiously.

Marius looked at her in disbelief. He suddenly remembered that friend of his, that gamine that lived in the apartment next to him before he moved with Courfeyrac and she disappeared from his life. That girl, always dirty, always carrying several bruises, always in trouble. Éponine. He had met her when she tried to pickpocket him and he had looked around just as she was extracting the few coins he had from his pocket. He had been benevolent, not accusing her with the police or even making her return the money. Then, she had been behind him almost every day, doing whatever he sent her to do. He could ever count her as his friend, although he knew, and he was sure of this, that she sticked to him as a way of thanking him for not turning her in. As he shamelessly looked at her, he tried to remember her last name, but nothing came to his head.

"Mademoiselle, could you please tell me your last name?" Marius asked her gently.

Éponine looked at him directly in the eyes. When she had met Marius, she had lied to him, telling him her last name was Jondrette so she wasn't linked to her father's gang. She knew that if she told him that same last name, which was the one she currently used at the Rochelle household, he would discover her immediately and every bit of her past would come to her. So she did her best to lie convincingly and told them another last name.

"Laviolette," she said without hesitating, "Éponine Laviolette".

Marius nodded. "I'm sorry...I just had a friend with the same name and...she looked a lot like you. But no, I'm sure you can't be the same person, she wasn't..." he babbled.

"Yes, I wouldn't forget your face, Monsieur Marius," she said.

"Éppy, I'm really tired...can we go home?" Annette asked as she pulled Éponine's sleeve.

"Yes," she answered eagerly, "nice to meet you, messieurs, but I've to take Neety home."

"Would you mind if I escort you?" Enjolras blurted out.

"No sir, I don't think that's needed, we can arrive home safely," she answered while taking Annette's hand.

"Éppy! Let's go with Monsieur Enjorlas!" Annette said while looking at Enjolras.

"Let's go Neety," Éponine said.

"Only if Monsieur Enjorlas goes with us," she answered while folding her arms.

"Monsieur, could you please escort us home?" Éponine finally asked.

"Sure, mademoiselle," he answered while standing up.

"See you at the Musain," he said to Marius and walked with them.

...

The three of them walked together through the street. Neety held both Éponine and Enjolras' hand, so for everyone around them it seemed like they were a pretty and young couple with their child.

"How old are you, Neety?" he asked.

She simply let go of Éponine's hand to show him four fingers and then took her hand again. "And you?" she asked.

"I'm twenty two," he answered.

"How old are you Éppy?" she asked.

"I'm eighteen Neety," she answered with a smile.

"So, where do you live?" he asked.

"Rue de la Victoire," she answered.

"Really? You live quite close to me," he said, "I live in the intersection with Rue Plummet, near Le Café Musain. To be a bourgeoisie neighborhood, it's quite close to the slums of Saint Michel, which is where we concentrate our rallies."

"Rallies?" she answered with a smile.

"Yes...well, we're planning a revolution against the stablished government," he answered as naturally as possible, fearing she was a conservative.

"Oh...and what is it about?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the revolution...what do you want to change?"

"Well...we want a republic, to begin with. We want to help poor people, those the king doesn't care about," he explained, excited about the fact that this girl didn't reject his ideas.

"I'm sure there's a lot of people that need help," she answered.

"Éppy, could you please carry me? I'm tired!" Neety exclaimed.

Éponine was about to carry her when Enjolras took the girl in his arms and cradled her in his arms. She fell asleep almost immediately.

"Would you like to go to our meetings? We'll have one later today," he offered.

"I'm not sure, I'll ask though," she said as they arrived to the house. Neety passed from Enjolras' arms to Éponine's and adjusted herself to Éponine's frame. Enjolras admired at how Éponine's face lit up at the sight of the little girl in her arms.

"Thanks for escorting us," Éponine said.

"You're welcomed," Enjolras answered, "Please tell your parents to let you go to the Musain, I promise you won't be here very late."

"My parents?" she said with an ironic tone, "do you think that I'm...oh!"

"What?" he asked confused.

"Neety and I aren't related, we aren't family or anything. How funny of you to think that," she explained with a smile on her face, revealing a beautiful dimple on her right cheek, "I'm her nanny."

Enjolras did the best to hide his surprise. The way she addressed Neety, the way Éponine talked, the way she was dressed so well made him believe she was actually part of a bourgeois family, part of Neety's family. Éponine smiled.

"You don't need to hide your confusion. It's rather a complicated situation," she answered before disappearing behind the big fence, Neety still in her arms.

Enjolras left after she saw them entering to the house, quite please. Although he cared for people and he found himself surrounded by very good friends, he hadn't found love. He had been with women before, but he was too disappointed with the fact that most of them just wanted him for his looks. This girl was different. She didn't bat her lashes, didn't speak in a voice of complacency, didn't agree with everything he said and she hadn't asked him to be quiet or looked away when he talked about government.

He definitely hoped that she was allowed to go to Le Café Musain.

* * *

**And Enjolras makes his great entrance! Well, I hope you've liked the chapter :) quick announcements to make: **

**I'm not putting any story on hiatus, even if it seems so. The thing is that some times I'm quite excited about new ideas and I start developing them before continuing. Anna, on the comments asked me if I erased Unsinkable (Titanic AU), I did do so, just to revise it and post it again :) **

**Hideaways is coming back soon, I have been stuck on the next chapter as I rethought about the next part in the plot. **

**Take a Walk's 9th chapter (presumably last chapter) is also on it's way...I just don't want the end to be cheesy and lovey-dovey, let's see what I'll get. **

**I'll upload sporadically, but I'll do the best I can for it not to be so spaced...sorry, I'm in school -.- **


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